


That Box

by ExpectoPadoughnut



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Misunderstandings, Unrequited Love, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpectoPadoughnut/pseuds/ExpectoPadoughnut
Summary: After hurling that box into the Sidra, Cassian finds refuge on the snowy rooftops where Azriel offers him words of comfort. [Cazriel]





	That Box

**Author's Note:**

> _**[Cazriel]** _

“Talk to me. Nesta. Tell me--”

He grimaced when she ripped her hand out of his grip, those gloves scraping against his calluses, and she stared him down. Although he was taller, towering above her slender frame, she managed to stare him down. _A mighty vengeful queen._

He stalled, a heavy breath leaving his lungs - it was a questionable sound - and waited for the verbal lashing she could deliver; the one she always delivered that shred him into ribbons. 

But Nesta said nothing, save for the sound of a dismissing hiss that slipped through her bared teeth beneath a curling lip - one that seemed to grimace with disgust - and she flung her chin in the air, turning her back to disappear into the shadows. 

The box was smooth beneath his fingers, tauntingly flawless until he dug his nails into the perfect material and ripped it from his pocket. Without a glance, he hurled that box into the Sidra, hoping the ice froze over tenfold and forgot it and her. 

_**-** _

His wings were cold. 

He was sure they were more than cold if he were honest, but he felt numb. What did it matter the damage he was doing to the still-fragile scar tissue? Let them fall off were his miserable thoughts. What did he care? 

The beating of wings alerted him to a presence and the soft crunch of boots on snow made him tense. “It’s been a while, brother,” came Azriel’s soft voice as the Illyrian lowered himself onto the snow-capped tiles of the rooftop. Cassian drew his knees tighter, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin against them. 

He wasn’t in the mood.

Heat surrounded his wings and cast a shadow over them. He noticed Azriel’s wings then, wide and strong, the right one shielding his own cold wings and wrapping around his body. A heavy sigh escaped his chest. “Thanks,” he mumbled, still staring over the Sidra to the star littered horizon. 

“I know how it feels,” admitted Azriel in a heavy voice. The Illyrian had mimicked his position - knees pulled tight, chin resting on folded arms - and his hair was concealing his eyes. Cassian could see from his peripherals the shadows that snuck around his friend’s neck, wrapping around his shoulders and arms. They stopped short of touching his own skin and a fleeting thought to reach out and touch them crossed his mind but he quickly tightened his fists and watched the stars again. 

“To want someone who doesn’t want you,” said Azriel. “Sometimes I pretend the feeling isn’t in vain and then I almost forget the hurt, but then I look at them and they aren’t looking back.”

Cassian said nothing. His chest hurt. There was a feeling brewing, one he couldn’t quite put into words. And he realised that there were no words for this - it just hurt. A thick lump rose in his throat and he shakingly swallowed it down. Azriel’s extended wing brushed against his shoulder. There was a pleasant heat there now that made him acknowledge the onslaught of snow that had fallen around his stagnant form. He brushed it from his hair. 

Azriel’s wing twitched beside him. “When we were in the war, I remember thinking that if I was given 5 minutes to talk to one person for the last time ever, that I’d go looking for them and they probably wouldn’t notice me, but I’d watch them through my last breaths.”

Cassian brushed the sting out of his eyes, refusing to drop one tear. He wouldn’t dare. Sniffing quickly, he shook his head and pulled a less than confident smirk across his colds lips. “She’d notice you alright, brother. Maybe not the way you want but she’d be there, guiding you through those breaths in her own way.” He tucked stray hairs behind his ears and puffed heavily. Azriel was looking at him strangely, his brow subtly creased. “Mor, I mean. She’d notice you,” he clarified, huffing a small laugh. Azriel’s eyes flickered and he looked away. 

Cassian dropped his chin onto his arms again. He could hear murmurs from the terrace below them where people celebrated, the sound of snow falling had picked up and there was laughter in the distance. Beside him, he could hear Azriel’s steady breaths and then a soft sigh that escaped the Illyrians lips.

**Author's Note:**

> **_It's up to yourself how to interpret this piece of work. I wrote it as Azriel projecting his unrequited feelings for Cassian and then Cassian being too consumed with his shattered emotions to actually read into his friend's confession. But if you want to read it as Cassian/Nesta & Azriel/Mor then go ahead. _**


End file.
